Things That Never Happened at Stargate Command
by ReferenceGoddess
Summary: The multiverse is big  and I intend for the SG1 characters to visit many places  from other TV shows to classic SF lit.
1. The Obligatory Oz Crossover

Usual disclaimers. Don't own any of them, no infringement intended, no money being made, etc. etc. etc.

Ratings: Most of these ficlets are K+ at most, but I rated the overall group T just to be safe. So, let us procede to...

The Obligatory Oz Crossover

The first thing that happened when SG1 stepped through the stargate was Teal'c stumbled. This was unusual in the extreme, and his teammates looked at him in surprise.

"What's up, Teal'c? Junior acting up?" asked Colonel O'Neill. "And what's that next to the gate?"

"It appears to be a pair of metallic colored shoes, O'Neill," said Teal'c, looking at the offending objects that had tripped him. A few inches of striped socks poked out of the shoes. Major Carter took a closer look at the shoes, and then raised her eyes to her commanding officer.

"There's remains inside these shoes, sir," she said, looking a bit ill. "Someone must have been standing right in front of the gate when it engaged."

"Ah, what a wonderful way to start a mission," he sighed. "No doubt the late-whoever will be a greatly beloved member of the community, and we are going to find ourselves in some delightful alien prison, again, complete with..."

He was interrupted by high-pitched giggling. The team started and raised their weapons, eyes searching the alien vegetation.

"None of us made that noise, right? Teal'c?" asked O'Neill.

Teal'c raised one eyebrow. "Jaffa do not giggle."

There was more giggling, and then some heads peaked out of the foliage. SG1 raised their weapons again. Some small figures emerged from the brush and approached them slowly.

Said aliens were short, dressed in wildly colored clothing, and wearing their hair in bizarre styles. One small alien, bolder than his fellows, came within a few feet of the humans and gazed at the shoes.

"She's dead, isn't she?" he asked them.

They looked at each other, and O'Neill gave a small nod toward Daniel Jackson, the team's linguist and cultural expert. If anyone could talk them out of this situation, it was Danny.

"Ah, yes, we are afraid so. I want you to know that in the name of our team and our planet, we would like to express our deepest regrets over this horrible accident, and..."

The alien seemed to not to hear anything after Daniel's first few words. He turned to the others and yelled out in a glad voice, "She's dead!" The others started cheering and laughing and swinging each other around. Under the noise, Teal'c observed drily, "A greatly beloved member of the community, indeed."

O'Neill didn't answer. He was too busy looking at the scene in front of him with a sense of growing dread. It all looked too, too familiar. His thoughts were disturbed by Carter's voice.

"Sir, look over there."

He did as his second-in-command asked. He could see this glowing ball approaching them. He glanced over - he could see the growing realization in Carter's eyes. He called over to Daniel, "Make absolutely sure the MALP is recording all of this!"

"Why, Jack?"

"So when we file our reports, General Hammond doesn't throw us all in a padded room, that's why."

"Sir, you don't think we're actually in?" Carter's question trailed into confused silence. By training, she was an astrophysicist, and her brain was having a very difficult time accepting the scene unfolding in front of them.

The bubble came within a few feet of them. It came to a stop, and with a burst of bright light, disappered. In front of them was a woman wearing a crown and an elaborate dress. She held a wand in one hand. Carter leaned closer to her commanding officer and whispered, "Sir. I will not wear those shoes."

The bubble woman looked at the humans. She chose to address Carter first.

"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"

SG1 X Wizard of Oz

Before you start flaming me, the shoes in the book were silver, not ruby.


	2. Mining for Answers

Usual disclaimers - don't own them, writing this for the amusement (I hope!) of the fans, not making any money, no copyright/trademark infringement intended, just respect for the creators of the works I'm borrowing.

2) Mining for Answers

It was inevitable that the members of SG1 would be called in by the President himself to investigate one of the strangest things to ever happen on U.S. soil. The President wanted to know if the Incident had anything to do with what Colonel Jack O'Neill called (when he was in a good mood) "evil space snakes" or any other alien menace the SGC had encountered in their trips through the stargate.

As it turned out, this seemed to be one thing that could not be pinned on the Go'uld, or any other aliens they had run across. Carter and a team of scientists detailed to investigate the Incident measured, and hypothesized and theorized - and came up with one big goose egg. After a few weeks, the scientists and military officers were recalled to their usual duties, and the case was declared unsolved, and, for the time being, unsolveable.

And so SG1 flew back to Colorado Springs, and not even Dr. Major Samantha Carter's big brain ever discovered what had caused the small mining town of Grantville, West Virginia, to disappear from the face of the Earth.

SG1 X 1632 by Eric Flint

Have you read the series? If not, you should. My favorite is 1634: The Galileo Affair.


	3. Transformations

Standard disclaimers - don't own them, no copyright infringement intended, no money is being made

Transformations

The armed men in the gateroom were tense and alert. It was never a good sign when a SGC team came back before scheduled. It was doubly bad when it was SG1 that had just asked for permission to return early. So they thought they were mentally prepared for what was coming through the gate. They were wrong.

Teal'c, the large Jaffa came through first. On the plus side, he seemed uninjured, but for some reason a large brown owl was perched on his shoulder. Teal'c nodded at General Hammond, still up in the control room.

"Teal'c, where's the rest of SG1?" came Hammond's voice over the intercom.

"They wanted me to come through first. There was a," Teal'c paused, searching for the right word. "problem. Please do not be alarmed when they come through."

Any other questions were put on hold when two figures came though the gate. One was a tall woman, with silvering hair. She was wearing standard BDUs, and was carrying extra gear. The other figure was a dragon. A honest-to-goodness dragon, at least four meters from nose to tip of tail. The gateroom guards raised their weapons.

"No!" bellowed the woman. She jumped in front of the dragon, as did Teal'c. The owl spread its wings in a gesture of protection and screeched at the guards.

Hammond came running down to the gateroom. "Teal'c," he demanded. What is going on? And where are the others?"

"They are here," stated T'elc. "As I said, there was a problem."

"Sir, please, it's us," said the gold dragon. Hammond stared at the creature. The dragon's big blue eyes were full of misery. Hammond was aware his jaw was hanging open, but he didn't care. Major Carter's voice coming out of that creature? How was it possible?

"For crying out loud, sir, can we take this to the infirmary?" the tall woman demanded. Hammond turned his attention to her. As soon as she came through the gate, he had noticed she was wearing standard green BDUs. But now that he was standing so near to her, he could see that she was wearing O'Neill's uniform. She had brown eyes, and a small scar running through one eyebrow.

"Colonel O'Neill?" It was with great effort that Hammond kept his voice reasonably level. "If that's you, and the dragon is Major Carter, does that mean?"

"Yes, sir, Danny is the wise old owl. And may I strongly recommend that the lovely world of Juice-enkio be put on our "do not call" list?"

"I think the local guide said it was Ju-sen-kyo, sir," offered Carter.

"Whatever."

The end?

SG1 x Ranma 1/2. Hmm, there's an idea for a full-blown story - Stargate SG1/2. Any takers? Think of the U.S. Air Force having its very own super-genius dragon!


	4. Flights of Fancy

Standard disclaimers. Characters/planets/concepts belong to their respective creators and/or representatvies. No money was made, at least not by me.

Flights of Fancy

General Hammond, leader of Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, glared at his computer screen.

How could he write this report and still keep his best people? Damn it, he was not going to lose his best team because of a bizarre fluke. At the very least, he could make sure they were not punished for something that wasn't their fault. He sat back and started to compose his thoughts. Begin at the beginning...

His latest headache had started when SG1 came back through the stargate over six months ago. They were on time and they were uninjured, an unusual state of affairs in and of itself. But this time they had really out done themselves in what some of the airmen called the "SG1 weirdometer." Teal'c had come through first. Only someone who knew him well could tell that his expression was a bit stiffer than usual. He was followed by the other members of the team. Everything was normal - except Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Dr. Jackson all had what appeared to be miniature dragons perched on their shoulders. They had goofy, happy looks on their faces, like people who had just become engaged.

Colonel O'Neill, would you care to explain those creatures? I don't remember giving SG1 permission to bring back alien life-forms." Hammond's voice showed his irritation.

"Sir, I know what you're thinking, and it's not our fault, exactly," O'Neill explained. We were on the beach of PX- whatever, eating our MREs, minding our own business..."

"When these creatures starting hatching right at our feet," interrupted Daniel Jackson. "Apparently their species lay their eggs in beach sand, rather like some types of sea turtles on our planet..."

"And they launched themselves at our lunch." Major Carter took up the narration. "And when we tried to shoo them off, some of them landed on us. They have a strange effect - it's like blending with a Tok'ra. What they feel, we feel. They were very hungry, and we gave them the rest of our MREs. They ate every bite."

Hammond raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"They actually like MRE's?" obvious disbelief in his voice.

"They were very, very hungry, sir," was all O'Neill could say.

The months passed. The minidragons were given names consistent with their human companions. Predictably, O'Neill had named his little bronze dragon Bart. He tried to talk Carter into christening her gold mini-dragon Lisa, but she just smiled and named her's Madame Curie. Daniel Jackson had somehow ended up with three mini-dragons (brown, blue and green), whom he called Petrie, Emerson and Peabody (Teal'c, alas, had no minidragon to call his own. Dr. Frazier hypothesized that the minidragons objected to Teal'c's symbiote).

Attempts by the NID to get their hands on the mini-dragons came to naught (a good thing, too, thought Hammond, or O'Neill would have been court-martialed for assaulting a fellow officer before now. On the other hand, he could admit to himself privately that he had been more than satisfied when Jackson's Peabody had scratched up that smug bastard Simmon's face). The little dragons' ability to teleport at will made capturing one of them alive impossible. And, armed with Dr. Frasier's extensive lab work on the empathic bond between the dragons and their humans, Hammond was able to convince the President that killing one of the creatures would lose the Air Force the services of a highly trained staff member. He was ordered to send some NID members through the gate to the planet, but their efforts to capture a mini-dragon had failed (which just proved, MREs or no, the mini-dragons had good taste).

And then, of course, there were the events of the morning. He was standing next to Dr. Jackson in the gate's control room, watching a crew ready a MALP for the next scheduled trip through the gate. The mini-dragons popped into the room, and started flying wildly about the large room. Airmen and scientists ducked as the creatures flitted about.

"Dr. Jackson, can you please get them under control?" Hammond snapped out. There was no answer from Dr. Jackson. He turned to Daniel, who had a very strange look on his face."

"Dr. Jackson?" the irritation in Hammond's voice was replaced with concern. "Is there something wrong? Are the dragons trying to warn us of some danger? He remembered that incident with the Re'tu. The invaders were invisible to the humans, but the mini-dragons had not been fooled.

"Er, no, I don't think so." Daniel's voice seemed very tight and controlled. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Actually, given what I'm feeling, I think that is a, a mating flight."

"What, all of them?" Hammond asked.

Daniel tugged at his shirt collar. "No, I think only the gold and bronze dragons are actually mating. But with the empathic bond, all the dragons are feeling, that is...ah, sir, if you don't need me, I think I'm going to find a cold shower, or something." He hurried out of the control room. The control room personal stared after him until a glare from the general sent them back to their work.

The gold and the bronze ones - Carter's and O'Neill's dragons. And if Doctor Jackson was so strongly effected when it wasn't even his dragons, then what was this going to do to the officers? Hammond could feel his blood run cold - this was SNAFU, in all meanings of the term. A good commanding officer knows what's going on in, even if he can't officially acknowledge it. He knew full well that some members of SGC (i.e. almost all of them) were betting on when/if either O'Neill or Carter resigned, since the regulations would not allow them to be anything but team members. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe, just for once, luck would be with them.

Luck was not with them. An airman walked into Major Carter's lab, and found O'Neill and Carter breaking the non-fraterinazation rule - and out of uniform. Definitely out of uniform. Predictably, when the mini-dragons were done, and his officers came to their senses, O'Neill tried to take all the blame on himself. Equally predictably, Carter was having none of that. Oh yes, SNAFU and FUBAR all rolled up into one. He sighed again and started typing out his report.

SG1 X Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffery

however, for the sake of the story, I had the emotional/physical bond between fire lizard and human a bit stronger than the bond portrayed in the Pern books. As far as I can tell, I have followed the rules Ms. McCaffery has laid out for Pern-related fanfic (did not use any of her major characters, and kept it PG-13).

Brownie points for the folks who recognize the significance of the names of Daniel's dragons.

New: Five brownie points for reviewer Senda Kenobi who caught the reference to Daniel's firelizards' names.

I am aiming for a light tone with this series, so I decided not to have Simmons get caught in Threadfall - tempting as it was 8-)

I also am not going to attempt a full-blown story about fire lizards at the SGC. Although, as one reviewer pointed out, it would give our guys a tactical advantage, I'm not willing to tackle the issue of the ecological damage fire lizards could inflict on Earth - it would make the bunny debacle in Australia seem like a tea party in comparison.

MRE - officially, Meals Ready to Eat, usually called Meals Refused by Everybody


	5. No Gods, but Lots of Monsters

Standart disclaimer. Not mine - we're all clear on that, right?

No Gods, But Lots of Monsters

The alarm for an unscheduled off-world activation sounded throughout Stargate Command. Armed soldiers took up their positions in the gateroom.

"It's SG1's signal, sir," the gate sergeant reported to General Hammond, "and it's an emergency."

Hammond nodded at the sergeant. "Open the iris."

The sergeant hit the switch, and the great iris that guarded the stargate unfolded. The first figures came through. It was Dr. Jackson, half dragging, half carrying Major Carter. He stumbled down the ramp and handed Carter off to the waiting medical team.

One of the control room techs gasped. From their vantage above the Gateroom floor, they could see something had ripped the major's uniform, leaving her back a bloody mess. Dr. Frasier and her crew got to work.

A long moment passed, and then O'Neill and Teal'c came running through the gate.

"Close the iris!" yelled O'Neill. Even as Hammond gave the nod to the gate technician, something large and black started coming through the gate. O'Neill and Teal'c dived for the floor, and gunfire erupted as the guards in the gateroom targeted the intruder. The iris swirled shut, cutting the thing in half. It slumped to the gate ramp, oozing green and black fluid. Hammond went to the wall and slapped the intercom button. "This is Hammond. Initiate bio-quarantine measures for levels twenty-six through thirty immediately." Sirens screamed and heavy steel doors slid shut. Hammond turned his attention back to the gate room.

O'Neill was still catching his breath. "It was like Harryhausen land there, sir. Harpies, flying horses with claws instead of hooves - that's what got Carter. If that eagle hadn't gotten in the thing's face, I think it would have killed her. And these giant spider-things."

Everyone was staring at the remains of the "spider-thing." It was big - the entire creature must have been at least as large as a HumVee. Horrifyingly, the spider head had a human face.

"I really hate spiders - especially ones that taunt you before they attack you," continued O'Neill.

Meanwhile, back on PX-whatever...

A magnificent eagle flew down to a man waiting in a meadow. It landed a few feet from him. There was a shimmer, and where the eagle had been was a young woman, naked except for a badger claw hanging on a thong around her neck.

The man smiled and handed clothing over to the woman.

"So, my eagle-eyed magelet, what did you see?"

"Oh, so much I don't know where to start, Numair" said Daine as she put on her clothing. "I saw four people moving through the forest, three men and a woman. They were very strangely dressed, and carried weapons like I have never seen. The oldest man, I think he was their leader, he was arguing with a Steelwing. They traded insults, but the Steelwing flew off."

"They hiked north, towards the river. It was near the falls that the hurrocks ambushed them. Their weapons were loud. It drove off most of the hurrocks, but one of them still attacked the woman. I had to dive down and fly right into its face to make it back off. But I didn't get there quick enough; it tore through the woman's clothes and made a terrible mess of her back. They started moving fast towards the west, the men taking turns helping the woman."

Daine paused to take a breath. "And then things became even stranger."

"Stranger, magelet?"

"They came to a meadow. There was a large ring, made of some odd stone or metal, in the middle of the clearing. They ran to a small dais near the ring, and the younger man started hitting symbols on the dais," she trailed to a stop. Numair had stood up straight, and was staring at her. He reminded her of a hunting dog coming to point.

"You interest me greatly, magelet. Continue."

"As he pressed the symbols, symbols on the ring started to light up. In the middle of that, some spiderns came out of the forest. The spiderns yelled some insults, and attacked the group. The older man and the man who looked like he was from the south of Carthak used their weapons. It was very noisy. As they were driving the spiderns back, something blue came out of the ring, like a wave on the ocean."

At this point, Numair grabbed Daine and hugged her. "Do you know what you have found?" he cried in excitement.

"No."

"Why, magelet, I believe you have discovered the ring of Arnlod the Unlucky," Numair smiled like a child receiving a particularly nice present.

"Who was Arnlod, and why was he unlucky?" queried Daine.

"There is a very old manuscript in the mage's college in Carthak, describing the last days of Arnlod," Numair settled into lecture mode. "He and his apprentice, it was said, had discovered a large standing ring in the mountains of north Tortall. He deduced, apparently correctly, that if one pressed the right combination of symbols, something would happen. After trying many combinations, the ring started to light up. So he had his apprentice continue to press the symbols, while he went to stand right in front of the ring. There was a great rush of blue, and when the apprentice looked again, there was nothing in front of the ring except Arnlod's sandals."

"Did one of the gods take him?"

"I like to think not. His feet were still in his sandals."

"Oh."

"So then what happened?"

"The young man pointed his arm at the ring. He was wearing a strange bracelet on his arm. He pressed some buttons on the bracelet. Then he grabbed the woman and dragged her through the ring - did I tell you it was all blue, like a pond, but standing upright?"

"No, but continue."

A bold spidern, seeing its prey was getting away, went after the two remaining men. They ran through the ring, the spidern right behind them. Then, suddenly, the blue light disappeared. It was like a giant blade cut right through the spidern. Only half of the spidern was on the ramp leading to the ring. It was messy."

"Hmmm," Numair started pacing back and forth. "No doubt the object you saw the young man pointing at the ring was some magical device, designed to make sure only some may use the ring safely."

"A pity," he continued. "I would like to see what is on the other side of the gate. But not so much that I wish to be sliced in half like a fish at the market."

"Maybe we could leave a message at the dais," she offered.

"After the reception they received, I do not think they will be a hurry to visit Tortall again. Pity." he sighed. "Well, let's be off, magelet. It's many miles to Corus, and now we have an interesting tale indeed for the king."

------------------------------------------------

SG1 x Tamora Pierce's Tortall books. Tortall time: Sometime after the event in the Immortals quartet.


	6. Stargate Quest

Usual disclaimer - don't own them, except as much beloved DVD's in my personal library

Stargate Quest

The light was sudden and blinding. When they blinked the dancing spots out their eyes, they saw four people standing in the middle of the controlled chaos of a television studio set.

The four strangers were wearing military fatigues - desert tan, not the jungle green ones called for today's shoot. They looked around themselves in wonder and delight. Their eyes fell on the actors and their grins became even more joyous then before. They started to approach the actors, walking in a strange shambling gait.

One of the extras raised his firearm and scowled threateningly. One of the other extras leaned over and whispered, "What are you doing? These things aren't loaded."

The other man whispered back, "Maybe they don't know that."

The strangers came to a stop. One stepped forward.

"Please forgive our sudden intrusion. We were not able to make contact with your gate, so we had to use the transporter. No doubt Colonel Carter and your excellent staff will have your stargate working in no time."

The leader of the strangers greeted each actor in turn.

"General O'Neill, it is good to see you at Stargate Command again - yeahsureyoubetcha."

The actor who had played O'Neill for eight seasons blinked; for once he had no ready retort.

The stranger then bowed to "Colonel Carter" and kissed her hand. "You are as beautiful as you are brilliant and brave."

The strangers worked their way through the line, greeting each actor as if they were really the character they portrayed. Work came to halt - every extra and technician had stopped to gawk at the display. Finally the strangers stepped back and addressed the room.

"We have traveled far to ask for your assistance. You must save us," they all trilled in their strange, high voices.

The director sighed and started hitting his head with his clipboard. This was really going to put them behind schedule.

---------------

SG1 x Galaxy Quest.

I love this movie - when ever I'm down, I throw it on the player. (and get the DVD - the extras include a Thermian language track)

My husband and I also quote this movie whenever we see a good show do a bad thing - "Who ever wrote this episode should die!"


	7. 3 Generals and a Funeral

Usual disclaimers. Not mine (I wish) I'm just having a little fun, and promise to return them in their original boxes when finished.

7) Three Generals and a Funeral

"Babe."

I just about jumped out of my skin. I turned around and glared at Ranger.

"Jeez, Ranger, stop sneaking up on me like that. You're going to give me a heart attack."

"You're in the right place for it."

The "right place" was the main viewing room at a funeral home on Hamilton in the Burg. I didn't know the late whomever. I was only there because my Grandma Mazur wanted to be here. Not that she knew the guy, either. Grandma Mazur just likes to go to wakes and viewings, and then she critiques them (she likes this funeral home because they serve great cookies).

I met Ranger at my cousin Vinnie's bond agency, and I'm not talking about bonds as in stocks and bonds. Were both bail bond enforcement agents, or bounty hunters, for Vinnie. But we're on totally different levels. When a shoplifter or a drunk and disorderly doesn't make their court date, they send me, Stephanie Plum, rank amateur. When someone skips bond for say, armed robbery or homicide, they send Ranger.

"What are you doing here?" Ranger was all in black, but in a suit and tie, not his usual (and very sexy) SWAT gear.

"Mike was a consultant of mine. Ex-Air Force, knew lots about electronic security. Good guy." Hmm, high praise from the taciturn Ranger. He nodded at the entrance to the viewing room.

"I haven't seen so much brass in one room since the last time I was on the shooting range," said Ranger.

I turned to look at the new arrivals. Three older guys in uniform, with all sorts of medals and colorful bars. One was short and bald, and looked like everyone's favorite grandpa. One was a bit taller, with graying dark hair. The tallest had silver hair, but wasn't bad looking for an older guy. (stop that Stephanie, stop. Like I don't have enough guy problems with both Ranger and Joe Morelli in my life)

"So, O'Neill made general." Ranger seemed to think that was amusing. Seeing my confused face, he added, "The tallest one."

"Why, shouldn't he be a general?"

"Oh, he's good. I worked with him once. It's just that he was always a bit weak in the sucking up to superiors department."

"How did you meet...," I stopped. "Let me guess, if you told me, you'd have to shoot me."

"Something like that," agreed Ranger. Ranger cracked one of his almost-smiles.

"Hey, Babe, your grandmother is groping the two star."

Oh, God. A general has to be like, I don't know, government property. Groping one had to be against the law. I sped across the room to save the poor guy. I pushed my way through the throng, getting some dirty looks along the way. Gossip is the main product of Trenton's Burg; I knew I was going to get a call from my mother tomorrow. She'd lecture me on proper manners at a wake. But I had the ultimate argument in my corner; I was trying to stop another Grandma Mazur disaster.

But by the time I got there, my grandmother had stopped feeling up the short, bald guy, and was now in another part of the room, talking to the dark-haired officer. He looking trapped, and like he would rather be in a gunfight than try to fend off Grandma Mazur's advances. The other officers had gone to the front of the room to talk to the deceased's family. I slowed down, and reached Grandma just as the other two officers rejoined their companion. He looked relieved; I couldn't blame him.

"Grandma, it's time to go." Grandma pouted, she was having fun trying to pick up officers at a wake. God, my life is beyond strange. "Mom said she was going to make pineapple upside-down cake," I wheedled.

"Here that, Hank?" she addressed the officer. "Want to come home with us? My daughter learned everything about cooking from me. And I can cook in other rooms than the kitchen, if you get my meaning."

"Hank" looked terrified. The bald officer had the slightest trace of a smile on his face. The tall guy looked like the only thing that was keeping him from guffawing was the fact we were in a funeral home.

"Ma'am, that's very kind of you, but I have to fly back to my base tonight. Duty calls, and all that."

"Well, ain't that a disappointment. If you're ever back in Trenton, give me a call," said Grandma Mazur.

"I'll be sure to do that," said Hank. I'll give him points for politeness; he actually sounded like he meant it.

"Come on, Grandma." I gently grabbed her arm and pulled her away. As we walked away, I could hear Hank say, "You set her on me, George, didn't you?"

"Maybe," agreed one of the other guys, the bald one I presume.

"Why?"

"Saigon, February, 1971," was the response.

"You aren't ever gonna let that go, are you?"

"No, Hank. I don't think I will."

------------------------------

The last few lines were inspired by stories my husband tells about his father's days in the Navy during WWII. When they weren't fighting for their lives in the Pacific theater, my late father-in-law and a guy named Bailey spent their spare time concocting wild practical jokes to play on each other. I leave it to the reader's imagination to decide what a young Landry did to a young Hammond...

X with Janet Evanovich's very funny Stephanie Plum books. OK, they aren't science fiction, but I love them. I'll warn you, if you are easily offended by bad language, these books are not for you. But if you are not bothered by swearing, give them a chance.

Maybe one of these days I'll write a full-length Stargate meets Stephanie Plum story. But the SGC might decide that hanging around Stephanie is more dangerous that fighting the combined forces of the System Lords and the Ori. (how many cars have exploded on her? I've lost count...)


	8. The Sincerest Form of Flattery

Standard disclaimers: You know the drill - don't own them, no money changing hands, yada, yada, yada.

8) The Sincerest Form of Flattery

General Hammond and SG1 stood at the bottom of the ramp leading to the Stargate. Hammond, O'Neill and Carter were in full dress uniforms, Dr. Jackson was wearing a suit, and Teal'c was wearing his most formal Jaffa robes. O'Neill fidgeted.

"Why am I here, sir? You know diplomacy isn't my strong point."

General Hammond smiled. "All the more reason to practice, Colonel. Besides, you made quite an impression on the natives of P4X-756. They specifically requested presence of SG1 at this meeting."

Well, O'Neill couldn't argue with that. During their original mission to the planet, he had heard childish screams of terror. Quickly working his way through the brush, he had come upon two small figures being threatened by what looked like velociraptors with bows and arrows (O'Neill still shuddered at that image). A few rounds from his P90 had scattered the reptilian bullies. The gunfire had brought the rest of his team running. After overcoming their initial fear, the youngsters (cubs?, thought O'Neill idly) had allowed the SG1 to escort them home.

There had been surprise, and then rejoicing, and then a banquet in honor of the incident. Oh, and there had been the native booze. That stuff could knock a whole squadron on its collective ass (the natives drank the stuff with no observed ill effects, lucky little buggers). O'Neill sincerely hoped that Captain Jones, the newly appointed liaison to the planet, had read that in the report.

His musings were interrupted by the great "swoosh" of the gate activating. The first person through the gate was Captain Jones. Captain Jones was looking a bit stressed out. He came down the ramp and smartly saluted his superior officers.

"Is the native delegation ready, Captain?" asked General Hammond blandly. Inside, he was laughing madly. He had read the Captain's latest reports, and he was certain the paperwork-aversive Colonel O'Neill had not. A general's life really has very few chances for a good chuckle. He was going to be watching O'Neill's face when the natives came through - this should be good.

"Yes, sir!"

"Any problems to report?"

"Er, no sir. The natives are very helpful - frighteningly so," said Captain Jones.

Any further comments were interrupted by arrival of the natives through the Gate. As originally reported, the natives were about a meter tall and covered in fur. With their button noses and bright eyes, they looked like large teddy bears. But the original reports said that the natives had very little use for clothing, using only a few strips of bright cloth as decoration.

These natives were all wearing BDUs. They seemed to be carrying P90s.

"Captain, are you nuts?" demanded O'Neill. "You can't give them advanced weapons like that!"

"Sir, those are not P90s," said Jones. "Those are just the native's dart guns, made up to look like our weapons. They really, really admire us. Sir."

The fake BDUs were good. Since females of the native species have two pairs of breasts, the attempt to copy Carter's uniform looked a bit odd, to say the least. One of the natives had donned a pair of glasses. The last native had somehow attached a gold Apophis symbol to his forehead. The first native, who had a pair of sunglasses dangling around his neck, stepped up to the welcoming officers and snapped off a text-book salute.

"Sir," it started in its squeaky voice, "Thank you for letting us come to Stargate Command, yeadsureyoubetcha."

O'Neill blinked. "Aren't you Talthu?"

"I am now Colonel Jack O'Neill," he said. "We are the beginnings of Stargate Hoka Division! When we are done here, may we go fishing?"

Hammond enjoyed the looks on his officers faces. O'Neill and Carter were flabbergasted. Dr. Jackson looked fascinated. Teal'c raised one eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing. Yes, it was a good day to be general for a change.

-----------------------------

Xover with the Hoka stories by Poul Anderson and Gordon Dickson. Classic SF stories from the 1950's, republished more recently by Baen Books. Give the stories a look.

If someone has kept a list of all the planet designations used during the show, can you tell me where it is? I just made up a number and hoped it hadn't been used.


	9. SG1 and the Lost Goa'uld

Standard disclaimers: Not mine, not now, and (probably) not ever. No money exchanged hands.

SG1 and the Lost Goa'uld

General Hammond and SG1 settled themselves into their accustomed places in the briefing room.

"Well, Dr. Jackson, what do you have for us?" asked the general.

"One of my staff members brought this to my attention this morning, and after some research, I believe we have to look into this." He clicked on the projector. A faded black and white photo was on the screen. Judging from the clothing, including the battered hat on the man's head, it had been taken sometime in the 1930's. The man in the photo had a crooked grin. There was a whip and a holstered sidearm hanging off his belt.

"Here is our subject. This picture was taken back in 1936. He had a reputation as belonging to the tomb-raiding school of archeology." Dr. Jackson said these last words with a bit of distaste. He advanced the image on the screen. It was the same man, now wearing a suit, shaking hands with Harry Truman. "Here he is shortly after World War II, receiving a medal from the president for his work behind Nazi lines during the war. After the war, he became involved in organizations that protected ancient historical sites."

"Isn't that inconsistent with his reputation as a tomb raider?" asked Major Carter.

"When asked that, he would just say he got religion." He flipped through a few more slides. "He dropped out of sight in the late fifties - until now." Jackson brought up another image. "A member of my department saw this on the blog of an archeology student who is on a dig in Mexico." The image was a blurred, amateur photo of a group of people sitting around a table. Dr. Jackson pointed out a man sitting at the far end of the table. It was the same man, it was even the same hat.

"Damn snakes," muttered Colonel O'Neill.

"Jack, we don't know for sure that he's a Goa'uld," Dr. Jackson said. O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"Daniel, he hasn't aged in what, sixty years? Goa'uld is my first guess."

"It's a good thing someone caught this," broke in Major Carter. "How did your assistant spot this?"

"He had a reputation for being a tomb-raider, and he also had a reputation as a ladies man. When he was teaching, his classes were filled with women who had no interest in archeology. I knew female students at U of C who had his picture on their walls" Daniel did not mention the time he walked into a lounge at the University of Chicago and interrupted some of the female grad students debating the point "who was the sexiest archaeologist ever - Radcliffe Emerson or Henry Jones (senior or junior)?". (and Daniel would have been mortified to know that after he left the lounge, the women had added his name to the list).

Colonel O'Neill glanced over at Major Carter. She was looking at the picture, a half-smile on her lips.

"Who'd have figured the way to a woman's heart was old rocks," muttered O'Neill.

General Hammond nodded at SG1. "You have a go. Dismissed."

And so, several hours later, they found themselves at the dig in Mexico. Dr. Jackson and Major Carter had been given the task of distracting their Mexican military liaison while Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c looked for their target. O'Neill wasn't happy. When it came to the Stargate, the Mexicans were even touchier than the Russians. The only weapons they had been allowed were their side arms and knives - no P90s and no zat guns. O'Neill felt like he was hunting grizzly bears with only a club.

They found Dr. Jones in one of the recently excavated tombs. He was studying a Goa'uld stasis jar in puzzlement. They overheard him whisper, "You have no business being here." O'Neill and Teal'c stepped out of the shadows, O'Neill's sidearm in his hand, pointing not quite towards their quarry.

"Hi there, Dr. Jones," said O'Neill brightly. "That's an interesting doo-hickey, isn't it?" O'Neill had to give the guy credit; he hardly flinched at their sudden appearance or the use of his real name.

The man glanced at him, and returned his attention to the jar. "Yeah, it is. As a matter of fact, it doesn't belong here at all. These so-called hieroglyphics, the material is all wrong. And it feels -- off." He set it down on a worktable. O'Neill made a small waving motion. Jones took the hint and backed away from the table, hands held away from his body.

O'Neill glanced at Teal'c. Teal'c studied the man for a moment and shook his head. So if Jones wasn't Goa'uld, what the hell was he?

"You know, doc, you're looking pretty good for a guy who is, what, a hundred years old. Want to let us in on your secret?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth," was Jones' response.

"Oh, I don't know. Try me. I've seen some pretty weird stuff," was O'Neill's rejoiner.

Jones smiled. "Well, would you believe that back in the 1930's, I found the Holy Grail and drank from it?"

"Holy grail, like the Last Supper, Knights of the Round Table Holy Grail? Hmm, you're right. I don't believe you. Try again."

"What's the use of telling the truth if no one will believe you?" said Jones. "And speaking of secrets, your friend over there has some, doesn't he?" He glanced at Teal'c.

At that moment, they were interrupted, and everything happened in seconds.

A young woman ran into the tomb, crying, "Granddad, you have to get out of here. There are government officials asking around for you. I'm sorry I didn't get that stupid picture off the Net sooner..."

Teal'c's gun swung around to cover the young woman.

Jones yelled, "Marion, no!"

Marion now noticed the two armed strangers, and gave a yelp of surprise. She stumbled away from them. Her hand reached out to a large crate, trying to steady herself. The crate wobbled and fell, brushing the edge of the work table.

In one of those moments that lasts forever, the jar on the worktable teetered - and then fell. It shattered. The suddenly released symbiote wasted no time. It coiled itself and launched itself at the hapless young woman.

O'Neill cursed even as he tracked the symbiote with his 9mm. At this angle, he couldn't shoot the snake without killing the woman.

Then there was a whip crack, and the symbiote stopped in midair. With a flick of the whip, Dr. Jones sent it across the room, slamming it into the far wall. Now that no one was in the line of fire, O'Neill and Dr Jones opened fire on the writhing creature.

They stared at the body of the symbiote, now a bloody smear on the tomb floor. O'Neill and Dr. Jones looked at each for a long moment, and then holstered their weapons. After a second Teal'c also holstered his weapon. O'Neill and Jones both took deep breaths, and said as one, "Snakes. I hate snakes."

----------

SG1 x Indiana Jones

This is a case of the last shall be first. I thought that it would be fun if Jack and Indy expressed their hatred of snakes at the same time - everything else is just to get to that line.

I completely defend O'Neill's use of the term "doo-hickey" - I know he usually calls Daniel's stuff "rocks" - but, really, a Goa'uld stasis jar is clearly technology, and therefore a "doo-hickey".


	10. Story Critique

Usual Disclaimers: Stargate and Chuck belong to their respective creators and corporate entities. No money exchanged hands. 8-(

Story Critique

Major John Casey of the NSA and Sarah Walker of the CIA were in the home entertainment center of the Buy More store. Their current project was to guard Chuck Bartowski, a mild-mannered member of the store's "Nerd Herd" who just happened, under a bizarre set of circumstances, to have the United States' biggest secrets downloaded into his brain. Right now he was staring straight ahead, seeing things no one else could see as those government secrets resorted themselves into intelligible patterns.

Sarah and Casey looked at each other. They recognized when Chuck was accessing one of the secrets downloaded into his brain.

"What do you got, Bartowski?" demanded Casey

Chuck looked at both agents, accusation in his eyes.

"You didn't tell me about the aliens!" he exclaimed.

"Like illegal aliens?" said Sarah in a fierce whisper. "Terrorists sneaking across the border?"

"No, I mean evil space aliens who want to conquer the Earth! 'Wormhole Xtreme' is based on real life!" He waved at the multiple TV screens of the home entertainment department, still playing a trailer for the revived show. "And, and," he stopped as more secrets flashed in his mind's eye, "and that whole thing about all the operations in Cheyenne Mountain being moved to Peterson 'cause the place is outdated, totally bogus! They moved NORAD because Stargate Command needed more room!"

Sarah looked confused. Major Casey, on the other hand, looked like he was going to choke. He grabbed Chuck by the arm and hustled him towards the office area. Just before the door closed, Sarah could hear Chuck exclaim, "Deep space radar telemetry? I could come up with a better cover story than that! Morgan could come up with a better cover story!"

--------

Xover with Chuck. This show is ridiculous in so many ways, but I love it all the same.


	11. Cultural Sensitivity

Usual disclaimer: Characters, situation, worlds belong to their respective creators and agents thereof, not me. No infringement intended, no money accepted.

--

Cultural Sensitivity

"We were talking to the guy and the kids who weren't kids...what did they call themselves, Daniel?" asked O'Neill.

"Hobbits, Jack," said Daniel.

"Yeah, thanks, when a bunch of guys in black robes attacked the campsite. They went right for the kids, sorry, Hobbits. When I saw that bullets had no effect on the creatures, I ordered Major Carter to use her zat. The leader disappeared, and the others ran - floated - whatever, away."

"Why didn't you use your zat, Colonel?" asked General Hammond.

O'Neill's face took on a look of pious innocence that fooled no one sitting at the briefing room table.

"Danny is always nagging me to show more sensitivity to local cultural standards. Their legends said the creature couldn't be killed by the hand of man, so I let Carter take the shot." General Hammond stared at O'Neill. O'Neill stared back. Hammond raised one eyebrow. O'Neill folded.

"And my zat got knocked across the clearing during the initial attack," muttered the Colonel.

-i-i-i-i-i-

Xover with The Lord of the Rings. How many ways can you kill a Nazgul? Let me count the ways...


	12. It Runs in the Family

Standard disclaimer: we all know the drill - characters and universes do not belong to me, just the situation.

i-i-i-i-i

It Runs in the Family

The gathering in Lt. Colonel Carter's living room was a somber one. Friends and colleagues who had come to honor the memory of General Jacob Carter had taken their leave. Her nephew and niece and fallen asleep, and been moved into the guest room. Sam had changed out of her dress uniform and into something dark and casual. When she came out of her bedroom, she saw that her brother and sister-in-law were looking through a scrapbook.

"Hey guys, what's that?"

Her brother looked up at her. "It started with a school project for the Squirt (his name for his daughter). Family history, that sort of thing. We dragged out old boxes of photos and stuff. When the project was finished, I kept working on it."

Sam grabbed a bottled water from her fridge and perched on the sofa's arm. She looked with curiosity at the page. A barely remembered face looked out at her.

"Isn't that Grandpa Carter?"

"Yep. Or maybe not." Sam raised one eyebrow at her brother.

"There was some sort of family falling out. Grandpa moved to California and changed his last name to Carter. It made making the connection to the older generation difficult. But kept digging, even found a picture of grandpa's father and grandfather." Mark smiled proudly and turned a few pages of the scrapbook. That page showed a very old photo, four men posed stiffly and dressed in the garb of the 1880's.

"So who were they?"

"That is great-great grandfather and his three sons."

"The boys don't look anything like each other." The older man and two of the younger ones were lean, while one was rotund. One of the lean young men was quite a bit shorter than his brothers.

"Yes, great-great granddad was unlucky. Widowed three times; each of the boys had a different mother. And the youngest," Mark pointed at the shorter, dark-haired man at the end," his first wife died almost right after the wedding. Very sad." Mark sighed and thought of more recent losses. Sam traced the inscription at the bottom of the photo with one finger. "Ben Cartwright, Adam Cartwright, Eric Cartwright, Joe Cartwright. Carson City, Nevada."

"That's where I got it from," thought Samantha "Black Widow" Carter darkly.

-i-i-i-i-

SG1 x Bonanza. A small treat for us older fans (i.e., those who watched Bonanza when it was first on the air) And yes, Hoss's real name was Eric. It was mentioned in a handful of episodes.

Remember, ladies - if the guy you are engaged to announces that he has Cartwright Syndrome - run for the hills! Dr. Lt. Col. Carter has the female version, shared by that nurse on "China Beach" and the bush pilot on "Northern Exposure".

Thanks to Reviewer Hobbes87, who caught my error on Nevada's date of admission to the union. (writer slaps own wrist) Bad, bad librarian! Didn't factcheck! No chocolate!


	13. Object in Space

Usual disclaimers: Characters and universes belong to their respective creators/corporations/etc. No money is being made, and I sincerely hope the owners of same will regard this as free advertising, not infringement.

13) Object in Space

When the Daedalus came back from Atlantis, it beamed its patient directly to the infirmary. Gossip was rife. The internationally known French astrophysicist Jean Besancenot had collapsed while on an exploratory mission in the Pegasus Galaxy. Now all he did was lie flat in his bed, muttering "C'est impossible que" and "J'y perds mon latin."

Doctor Woolsey of the International Oversight Committee demanded a briefing with Stargate Command's top team and scientists. General Landry, CMO Lam, SG1 and several members of the sciences division of both SGC and Atlantis were squeezed into the General's briefing room.

"I know the rumors must be flying, giving Dr. Besancenot's condition. I'm here to tell you that whatever you heard, it probably isn't even close. This may be one of the most astounding discoveries of the Stargate program since the repository of the Ancients."

He touched the control that started the projecting equipment. The first image came up. There was nothing particularly strange about it. It showed a Stargate and a DHD standing in the middle of field.

"Here is the world's Stargate. It is approximately 2 kilometers from a large city. After we arrived, we took the puddlejumper into orbit to do a standard survey. What we found was not standard. The image changed. The audience in the room gasped in amazement.

General Landry held up his hand to interrupt the speaker.

"Ah, Doctor, that would seem to be..."

"Yes, it is," said Dr. Woolsey.

"With...

"Yes."

"Standing on..."

"Yes."

"Ah, just so we're clear that we're all seeing the same thing." Landry settled back into his chair.

"That must be an illusion. We've certainly seen alien technologies, like the Nox, that can hide..." started Colonel Carter.

"No, that is what the world, system, whatever, looks like. After the quick survey, we took the puddle-jumper back down to the surface," said Major Lorne, who had come back from Atlantis to report in person about this mission. "The place is weird, and dangerous. We barely got out of the major city with our skins. Trolls, dwarves; it was like Middle Earth on drugs."

Colonel Carter's brain was running in circles, trying to make this impossible system obey even a few laws of physics. She was dimly aware of Daniel going on about ancient Hindu beliefs. The room seemed to be getting gray (well, grayer than usual). All of sudden there was a short jab in her side. She gave a little jerk and looked to her side.

Colonel Mitchell was staring at her in concern.

"Psst. Carter. Stay with us," he whispered. She shook herself and straightened up, the glazed look gone.

"And how did Doctor McKay handle this? Better than Doctor Besancenot, I presume," asked Dr. Lam.

"Well, he had to lie down for a bit, but now is raring to go on the problem," said Major Lorne.

"But this is clearly a phenomena that must be studied. Only the best minds have a chance of understanding this, this, anomaly." Woolsey looked at Dr. Lt. Colonel Carter, a speculative gleam in his eyes. Cameron noticed it and held up one hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up that streetcar right now. You broke your physicist; you can't have ours!"

Mitchell and Woolsey glared at each other, as the others stared at the projected image of a giant disc, spinning on the backs of four elephants, all aboard a giant turtle swimming through space.

-i-i-

Xover with the Discworld series by Terry Practhett. I'm afraid my talents were not equal to dumping Vala into the Thieves Guild...

"It's impossible" and the equivalent of the English "I can't make heads or tails of it" respectively, according to the French language guide at aboutdotcom


	14. Jurisdictional Overlap

Standard disclaimers: Don't own them, never have, probably never will. No money exchanged hands.

14) Jurisdictional Overlap

I was on an important errand for the Men in Black Headquarters. It was very important. OK, it was my turn to get the coffee. But I want you to know that high quality coffee ensures the smooth running of the organization. Especially for the Wormies. They're useless unless they are fully caffeinated.

So anyway, that's why I was passing an alley when I saw a man with glowing yellow eyes waving some space weapon at four civilians. So, after a quick check up and down the street, I stepped into the alley and zapped glowing eye guy. The civilians looked at me in surprise. I put on my special shades and used my neuralizer. I figured it for the usual drill, tell the civilians some semi-plausible story, send them on their way, and call HQ for cleanup on aisle three.

And then I found myself jacked up against the wall. Damn, the old guy could move. He had one hand around my throat, and the other around the hand holding my neuralizer.

"I am getting damned sick of people playing mind games on me," he snarled. The others didn't look too happy other. The good-looking blonde grabbed the neuralizer out of my hand. The guy with glasses looked annoyed. The brother who could have been a stand-in for a mountain looked like he was thinking of taking me apart.

"Colonel O'Neill, I'd appreciate it if you didn't break my partner," I heard the familiar voice of my partner, Agent K.

Tall old guy didn't flinch, and he didn't let go of my throat.

"Partner? This guy isn't a cop, And maybe you'd let me know how you know my name?

"And where he got this interesting bit of tech?" said the blonde, holding up my neuralizer.

"We're with the M.I.B.," started K.

This seemed to annoy the old guy. The grip around my throat tightened. "God damned N.I.D."

"That's M.I.B., Colonel," said K in a calming voice.

"N.I.D.?" I croaked. It was getting damned hard to breathe.

"A good idea gone very, very wrong, Slick. Originally meant to oversee top secret projects, now it is hopelessly corrupted with agents working for folks whose first agenda is not the good of the planet." Old annoyed guy relaxed his grip around my throat a little.

"Why didn't the neuralizer work?" I managed to say.

"It didn't work because Colonel O'Neill has had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his brain, Major Carter was briefly the host of a Tok'ra, Doctor Jackson was an Ascended being, and Teal'c is a Jaf'fa."

"Thanks, K," I said. "That makes things so clear."

"Junior, didn't you read the memo last month?"

I winced. K calls me "Junior" when I've screwed up.

"Er, I read lots of memos. Which one in particular?"

Agent K sighed his patented "long suffering expert stuck with amateur partner" sigh. "The memo that described how to recognize a Goa'uld. The memo that clearly stated that Stargate Command has jurisdiction over all matters concerning Goa'ulds, the Aasgard, and Replicators. That memo, Junior."

I thought up about a dozen lame excuses, which I immediately tossed out 'cause K wasn't going to buy any of them. "Er, no, I must have missed that one. Sorry. And what are Replicators and Ass-guards?"

K didn't get a chance to reply. There was a flash of blinding light, and suddenly annoyed old guy (whose hand was still wrapped around my throat) and I were on the bridge of some kind of space ship. Old guy rolled his eyes and let go of me. I dropped to the floor and gasped for air.

"Damn it, Thor! You have to start warning me!" he yelled.

"I am sorry, O'Neill. It was an emergency," said a soft voice. I looked up, into the big, buggy eyes of a Roswell gray. A freaking Roswell gray!

"Thor, meet J. J, you wanted to know what an Aasgard is. Meet, Thor, Supreme Commander of the Aasgard fleet."

Damn. I really have to start paying attention to those memos.

-i-i-i-

Xover with M.I.B. - I had a few people request this particular crossover. I had a bit of a problem, as I, a middle-aged white suburban librarian was trying to write dialog for a young, hip, Black urban cop/secret agent. And I don't think the two universes play well together. Well, I gave it my best shot. (and, hey, that's why this series is called "Things that NEVER happened"...

And yes, I know you call the floor of a ship the deck, but, as far as I know, J doesn't have a Navy background.

Now if I could just wrestle the Stargate/Sharing Knife crossover I'm working on into shape, I'd be set for next week...


	15. The Goa'uld Wears Stuart Weitzman

Standard disclaimers: TV shows belong to their respective creators and corporations, the City of New York belongs to 8 million plus folks, none of whom are me. No money being made, etc. etc. etc.

Ugly Betty time: beginning of 2nd season. Stargate SG1 time: anytime, seasons 9 or 10

#

The Goa'uld Wears Stuart Weitzman

Wednesday evening, Number 7 subway, Queens NY

It was luck that Captain Ana Martinez of Stargate Command has chosen that week to take her leave time, and an amazing stroke of luck that of all the subway cars in New York City, she had gotten on that one. She was in the perfect place to overhear a conversation that got her blood racing. It had started innocently enough.

"You look tired, Betty," said the boy to the gawky looking young woman.

"It's just work. There's been so much to do since Daniel's accident. And I think something is wrong with Wilhelmina."

"Ha! What isn't wrong with her?"

"No, I'm serious, Justin. She must be experimenting with some freaky contact lenses. I was delivering a layout to her office, and I walked in and I could swear her eyes were glowing yellow." Behind them, they could not see Captain Martinez stiffen.

"Glowing contact lenses? Cool. Tacky, but cool," said Justin.

"And her voice was all funny."

Captain Martinez changed her plans. She followed the woman and boy to a house in Queens, and then she called into the base. Research was done and plans were made.

--

Friday morning, Mode offices, Manhattan NY

"Ooh, hottie alert," exclaimed Marc, personal assistant to Wilhelmina Slater. Amanda's head snapped up from her computer screen at the reception desk. Like Marc, she cast her appreciative eyes on the three men.

"Hmmm, do you think they're with those women, or just with those women?" she asked.

Marc's face fell. "My gaydar is getting nothing."

"Not even the guy with the glasses? He's too pretty to be straight," said Amanda.

"No," he said sadly. "Not one single ping."

"Oh no, ugly alert!" exclaimed Amanda. She saw Betty Suarez approaching the strangers. She jumped up from her desk and sped towards the strangers. Marc followed her (after all, his gaydar might be on the fritz...)

Betty had barely had time to say "Welcome to the offices of Mode" before Amanda and Marc shoved themselves in front of her.

"Why don't you go down to the cafeteria and remind the models of the danger of carbs?" purred Amanda.

One of the men frowned at her. "Now, that was rude," he drawled. He looked over Amanda's head to address Betty directly. "Miss, we were hoping someone could help us here."

Amanda was not dismayed. "Hot, cute accent, and kind to the unfortunate. What a guy." she thought to herself.

Betty perked up, always happy to be of assistance.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"Er, no," said Mitchell. He reached into his pocket and flashed a badge and ID (hurriedly but expertly produced the night before) at her. "Agent Mitchell, Secret Service. Threats have been made on the life of Senator Slater. We were concerned that his daughter may also be a target. We need to talk to her."

"Marc here is her assistant. He can help you," said Betty. "Do you need anything else? I really need to get these layouts to my boss."

"You have been very helpful, miss. Thank you." Betty went bustling off. SG1 turned to Marc.

"Oh, but...," started Amanda. They turned to her, and she could see on their faces that they were not pleased with her. She decided to start with a gambit familiar to her. Hey, this business was all about knowing people, right? Amanda addressed the dark-haired woman.

"Have you considered modeling?" she blurted out.

"Who, me?" asked Vala.

"Yes. I know this designer, young but up-and-coming, who likes the edgy look. He'd love you."

Vala looked very pleased. "Hmm, edgy. I like that!"

Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Could you keep your mind on the mission, please?" said Mitchell. Vala pouted. Mitchell made a little motion at Marc, who took the hint and said, "Follow me." As the team fell in behind him, Vala turned to Amanda and mouthed, "later".

Marc lead them through the busy floor to the doors of Wilhelmina's office. Just as he reached for the handle, Mitchell stopped him.

"This could be a long conference, what with discussing security measures and all. Would you mind getting us some coffee?"

Mitchell mistakenly thought that this would get Marc out of the way quickly. What followed was several minutes of Marc quizzing them in great detail on their coffee preferences, especially when Teal'c unwisely said, "What is a double latte?" Marc finally left, to their great relief, and they walked into Wilhelmina's office unannounced. So Marc did not hear the double-voiced exclamation of "Shovla!" or the whine of a Zat, or the shimmering hum of the transporter beam.

--

Sunday afternoon, Stargate Command, Colorado Springs CO

SG1, Chief Medical Officer Lam and General Landry met in the briefing room.

"So, the procedure was a success?" asked the general.

"Yes," said Dr. Lam in an uncertain voice.

"You don't sound convinced," said the general.

"Oh no, it worked, thanks to the Asgard. It's just that Ms. Slater is so autocratic and demanding that I doubted the results at first."

"I didn't think it was possible for a human to be more arrogant than a Goa'uld, but I stand corrected." Daniel's statement hung in the air. The general decided to move the conversation along.

"Do we know anything about the Goa'uld?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "It was Serqit, once a minor functionary in Apophis' court." He came to Earth on a spy mission, and was stranded by the fall of Apophis. He only recently took over Miss Slater's body."

"Ah, yes. Ms. Slater. You have explained the situation, and she had signed the non-disclosure papers?" he asked Carter.

"Yes, sir," Carter responded. "She made several pointed references to her father, The Senator." Landry could hear the capital letters.

"Hope we don't have another Kinsey on our hands," muttered Daniel.

"Don't you worry, Daniel," said the General. "We've never had any problems with him, and he couldn't stand Kinsey on the best of days." Landry straightened the papers on his desk.

"Then arrange for her return to New York. Dismissed."

There was a chorus of Yes sir's and the meeting broke up. He could hear Mitchell mutter, "Couldn't we just give her a broom?" as he exited the door.

--

Monday morning, Mode offices, Manhattan NY

Wilhelmina returned to work, Goa'uld free, but her mind full of the Goa'uld's plan for taking over Meade Enterprises. It was not a bad plan, but she had already thought of several ways to improve upon it. She threw herself into her work.

No one noticed any difference.

-#-#-

Xover with Ugly Betty. I figure Wilmelmina would be a natural as either a Goa'uld on Stargate or a demon on Buffy. And at least if Wilhelmina was a Goa'uld, she'd be a well dressed one. I swear, outside of Baal, they have zero fashion sense. (and with a little Net research, I was able to ascertain Wilhelmina's favored brand of shoes - something that this LandsEnd sorta girl could not figure out on her own)

I had to give this a minor rewrite, as I noticed that I had failed to give Vala any lines. What was I thinking?


	16. OMGTKKTB

Standard disclaimers: Characters and worlds belong to their creators and corporate entities; only the twisted plot is mine. No money has exchanged hands.

--

16) OMGTKK-TB

The personnel of Stargate command were giving Colonel O'Neill a wide berth. He stalked through the corridors of the base, with a totally expressionless face that long-term members knew meant the Colonel was beyond furious.

Of course, no one was happy about the last mission, a poster child for the term "FUBAR". There had been a foothold situation. And then the alien had escaped the base, and headed into the mountains. They had followed, and finally pinned it down in a small mountain town. There had been one casualty; a civilian, a schoolchild. So no one felt like celebrating the otherwise successful mission. And no one wanted to deal with the black hole of grief and rage called O'Neill.

O'Neill came to General Hammond's door.

"Do you have a minute, sir?" he asked in a flat voice.

"Of course, Jack," said Hammond, making a motion.

"I would like to take a few days leave, sir," O'Neill stated, still in that flat voice that chilled Hammond.

"Naturally Jack," said Hammond. "Take as much time as you need. You certainly have the time coming to you. When do you want to start your leave?"

"Immediately, sir." Hammond nodded, and O'Neill was gone.

Hammond breathed a small sigh of relief. Time off wasn't the same as counseling, but his chief psychologist has opined that "I would rather walk into a nuclear reactor in my underwear than try to talk to O'Neill under these circumstances, sir." No, he'd give Jack a few days.

--

The next day, O'Neill drove to the small town where the disaster occurred. A potted plant, suitable for graveyard decoration was in a box on the floor of his truck. He'd leave the plant, and apologize to the deceased one last time. It was irrational, but it seemed to be the right thing to do.

But the strange little town surprised him again. He walked the paths in the small cemetery on the outskirts of town, but there was no fresh grave. Then he went to the library and read the local newspaper. There was no article, or even an obituary. Frowning, O'Neill left the library and walked down the street, trying to clear his head. What was going on here?

He turned the corner, and nearly bumped into a bunch of school children hanging out in front of a toy store. One of the children, a fat, unpleasant boy, abused him with a torrent of foul language that would have made a master chief blush. O'Neill was about to give the kid a dressing down when he stopped, frozen. One of the kids - no, it couldn't be, but it was. It was the same child he had seen killed last week. The "dead" boy mumbled something. "Yeah, that's telling him," said the fat kid. The children then all ran down the street, leaving a stunned O'Neill in their wake.

That evening, a special team swooped into town, and came away with a Goa'uld sarcophagus they found hidden in a tool shed behind the child's house.

The next time Kenny McCormick died, he stayed dead. (or did he?)

--

Xover with South Park. I just had to explain why, after coming back from the dead time after time (after time, etc.) for several seasons, Kenny stayed dead for a whole season. I leave it as a challenge for someone else to explain why Kenny came back during season six. (I don't see Kenny as Ascended Being material, but, hey, if they let Anubis into the club, their standards can't be very high)

Thanks to my husband for the title, which is based on a catch phrase from South Park - you know, the one that starts "Oh my god..."

And now I heading off for a well earned vacation, driving the national parks of the South West.


	17. While You Were Napping

Usual disclaimers: Not mine, just borrowing them, etc. , etc., etc.

--------

17) While You Were Napping

"Daniel!"

Colonel O'Neill's annoyed voice woke Daniel Jackson from his uneasy sleep. He tried to rise, but found himself stuck to the ground. Jack was standing over him, an exasperated look on his face.

"I turn my back on you for ten minutes, and look what happens."

"This was not my fault!" said Daniel by reflex, even though he wasn't sure what 'this' was.

"In all fairness, sir, the monitor tapes showed that Daniel tripped. He didn't touch the alien device on purpose," said Major Carter. The unspoken "this time" hung in the air.

"What happened to me?"

"The tape showed that you stumbled, hit the alien device, and disappeared. Luckily, it didn't transport you far, and we were able to triangulate on your radio," explained Carter.

"Why can't I move?" Daniel gave another useless tug.

"Gah! Carter, cut him loose." O'Neill ordered. Major Carter grabbed her knife and started sawing away at his bonds. He was finally able to raise his head and look at the rest of his body. A network of hundreds, if not thousands, of threads were criss-crossed over him, leading to a ring of small pegs surrounding his body.

"Well, when you're able, you can talk to our little alien buddies who did this to you," grumbled O'Neill.

Daniel's question was cut off when Teal'c came into his view. Teal'c was holding a small person, no bigger than six inches tall. He was wearing what appeared to be the garb of 18th century Europe. He struggled and was yelling something at Teal'c.

O'Neill shook his head. "Only you, Daniel, only you."

-----

X-over with Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift. Hey, at least it's in the public domain!

And if you can find a copy, try reading a very well done sequel to Gulliver's Travels, Mistress Masham's Repose by T.H. White.


	18. Eviction Notice

Usual Disclaimers: Any character you recognized is not mine, alas. No money exchanged hands, and no copyright/trademark infringement is intended.

18 - Eviction Notice

The Goa'uld ran through the Colorado woods, its host panting and gasping for breath.

The thrice-accursed SGC had discovered Enki and brought it to the Tauri base for questioning. It had escaped, but its host was shot as they entered the dense pine forest. It could never heal the injury and escape. It must find a new host, and quickly.

It burst through the woods onto one of the primitive dirt roads that criss-crossed the forest. It's sudden appearance startled a young man who was kneeling by a ground vehicle. He arose, one hand still grippping the tire iron. He looked at the Goa'uld warily.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, please help me," the Goa'uld said. "Please help, they are after me..." He staggered towards the youth. Hmm, he had a patch over one eye. Well, he didn't have to keep this host - just long enought to find the nearest large city and find a more suitable host.

The Goa'uld's host chose that moment to die. The body collapsed at the young man's feet. The young man leaned over the body, and Enki burst out of the dead host and launched itself right into the startled Tauri's mouth. It ignored its new host's scream as it burrowed towards the spinal column.

It ran into some oppostion as it established control over the new host. As so often happened, the host tried to create a guardian in its mindscape. This host was slightly different, in that two figures appeared - a solider of the Tauri and a snarling, ugly creature. Enki conquered them after a very short struggle. There was no time for gloating, he must have the host finish the repairs on the vehicle and leave the area before the SGC could surround the area.

To Enki's surprise, the host would not move. He tried to apply pain, but was thwarted. He gathered his will to push the host harder when a voice echoed in the mindscape.

"You will not harm my manservant," it stated with aristocratic arrogance.

A Tauri male appeared in the mindscape, tall and thin and pale. It looked on Enki with cool disdain.

"Leave," snarled Enki. "I am a god; you can not win."

"No. I have prior claim on this human. You will leave at once." the Tauri stated with calm assurance.

Enki was puzzled. "What are you? You are not Goa'uld, you are not Tokra."

"I do not expect a glorified tapeworm such as yourself to understand," said the man. "I tolerate the Soldier and the Hyena. They give my servant strength. You, on the other hand," he said, and for a moment his eyes flashed gold and red, "are an interloper, and will leave immediately. Begone."

Enki could feel his hold on the human slip away. His host started gagging, and Enki felt himself ejected onto the gravel road.  
He heard a voice yell, "There it is!". Enki felt the pain of a zat blast, and knew no more.

SG1 looked at the young man in amazement as he rolled over and staggered to his feet.

"This is unprecedented," stated Teal'c. "For a Tauri to be able to eject a symbiote on his own..."

"Had help," muttered Xander Harris. Being surrounded by the military, that was bad. But you know what was really bad? Knowing the next time he visited the castle, he would have to say, "Thank you, Master"" to Dracula. What could be more galling?

############

Xover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. For those who didn't follow Buffy, Xander has been possessed by a primal hyena spirit, a soldier, and played Renfield to Dracula (Yeah, That Dracula). Xander's life is complicated - and that's not including his dating history. I've seen a few different takes on this idea - either the soldier and the hyena combining forces to toss out the parasite, or an anti-possesion spell created by Willow ejects the Goa'uld - but I've haven't seen his tie to Dracula used in this way before.

Oh, and poor, poor Goa'uld. No time to gloat.


	19. And the Other 17 Would Be?

19) And the Other 17 Would Be?

Standard disclaimers: Characters and shows belong to their creators and various and sundry corportate entities, none of whom are me. No money was made, at least by me.

########

Jack O'Neill managed to keep his face passive even as he cursed himself for being a fool. This is what came of taking a desk job. You got slow, you got sloppy. They had taken care of the Goa'uld, the Ori, the Replicators, and he had become complacent. The loud music pouring out of a nearby bar masked any sounds his stalker may have made. Now he was being held at weapon point in a dark parking lot by a Goa'uld with a desire for revenge.

The Goa'uld sneered at him. He spoke again in that weird double-toned voice that O'Neill had learned to hate so much over the years.

"You think you have won, Tauri. Perhaps, but you will not live to enjoy your triumph. After I kill you, I will search out the other members of the SGC and kill them as well."

"You can try," said O'Neill. If things could get any worse, O'Neill didn't want to know. Oh yeah, another thing he hated about the Goa'uld; their need to gloat.

"Maybe I will take you as my next host." A lascivious smile spread across his opponent's face. "I think I will take my time with the woman Carter."

O'Neill's heart plummeted, even as he said off-handedly, "She will so kick your ass." Things had officially become worse. He needed a diversion, cats fighting, a truck backfire, anything. The universe did not seem disposed to provide one. He was wondering if he could dive behind a car before the Goa'uld activated the hand device. He was tensing to move when the diversion appeared.

"NCIS! Drop the weapon!" a commanding voice yelled. The Goa'uld, startled, looked away from O'Neill. O'Neill took advantage of its lapse in attention to take cover behind a car. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the emergency number.

Before the officer on duty could say anything, he was yelling, "This is General O'Neill. Foothold situation! Behind Tia Maria's Pizza in Falls Church!"

He couldn't hear the response, as the Goa'uld snarled and used the hand device, missing O'Neill but causing the headlights on the car to explode.

Yells surrounded him.

"What the hell was that, McGeek?"

"How should I know, Tony?

"Because we brought guns to a ray gun fight. That's your gig," answered the first voice.

"Cut the chatter," said another voice, the voice that had ordered the Goa'uld to surrender. "Put your weapon down now and step away from the general. Last warning."

The Goa'uld responded by firing off his hand weapon again. It hit a dark haired man, who was flung half away across the parking lot before he slammed into a pickup truck. O'Neill winced in sympathy - been there, done that.

Gun fire erupted. The bullets fell in a circle around the Goa'uld, who laughed and fired off another blast, breaking the windows in an SUV.

"Guns won't work!" yelled O'Neill. "It has a shield!"

"What, like _Star Trek_?" asked an incredulous voice.

"No, it's more like _Wormhole X-Treme_, Tony," answered another voice.

"Gah! Does anyone have a throwing knife?" yelled O'Neill. God save him from geeks and nerds.

"I have it, Gibbs," yelled a voice, female and accented. Israeli, thought O'Neill. In NCIS?

His answer came when the Goa'uld suddenly stopped using its hand device. There was one knife sticking out of its chest, and the other had gone right through the hand device. Nice throws, thought O'Neill. Its eyes flashed gold as it collapsed.

Figures appeared out of the darkness. A tall man about O'Neill's age, a dark haired woman, a sandy haired young man, and the dark haired man who had been slammed into the vehicle. He was walking slightly hunched over. Cracked ribs, thought O'Neill. The men all had their guns out, pointing at the fallen Goa'uld. The woman pulling out a cell phone.

"No, don't go near the body," yelled O'Neill.

They looked like they were going to argue with him. Then the youngest man said, "Look!"

A bulge appeared in the fallen man's neck. The symbiote started to emerge. Everyone took a few steps back.

"_Alien_, 1979, Sigourny Weaver and John Hurt," said the dark haired man as he back pedaled ever further away from the body.

"Pilot episode of _Wormhole X-Treme _- 'Enter the Serpent'", replied the sandy-haired man.

"Shoot it! Now, damn it!" yelled O'Neill, even as the symbiote sprang from the body, heading right towards him. Time slowed down to a crawl; he could see the look in their faces. They couldn't shoot the symbiote without hitting him.

Before he could move a slim shape ran right in front of him. It was the woman, quick as lightning. She grabbed the worm right out of the air and then struggled to keep a hold of it. Her free hand dove into her jacket pocket. Then, with a move O'Neill couldn't quite follow, she jabbed something at the symbiote's head. It gave one great convulsion and then lay still in her hand. She looked at it in disgust and laid it carefully on the pavement and stepped back.

"I take it that this wasn't a standard armed robbery, General?" asked a dry voice. It was the silver-haired man. O'Neill would have bet his paycheck that the guy used to be in the Marines. O'Neill rose up from position on the ground, leaning against the side of the car.

"Ya think? My people will be here soon. As soon as you sign all the non-disclosure documents, you'll get filled in."

"_Wormhole X-Treme _is real?" guessed the youngest man. O'Neill rolled his eyes, and the dark haired man slapped the other man on the back of the head.

"You can thank Ziva. She's the one who spotted you," said the older man, ignoring the interruption.

"Yeah, thanks. You throw a mean knife."

"It was nothing," she said.

O'Neill looked more closely at the dead symbiote, and then did a double take. There was a thin, shiny piece of metal rammed through its skull. He had assumed that she has used a knife, but the thin, shiny piece of metal had a suspiciously familiar loop at the end.

"Did you kill it with?" he started to ask.

The woman flipped back her hair. "I used both of my knives, so I had to improvise."

The young, sandy haired man spoke next. "Wow, I knew that she said she knew eighteen ways to kill a man with a paperclip, but, well, wow." He turned to the dark haired man next to him, their guns still trained on the symbiote. "Maybe you should stop going out of your way to annoy Ziva, Tony."

O'Neill agreed wholeheartedly.

############################

Crossover with _NCIS_. This was inspired by the following bit of dialogue from the season 4 episode "Dead Man Walking":

Officer Ziva David: This is killing me. I feel like I know him.

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo: Mossad?

Ziva: Maybe.

Tony: Internet dating?

Ziva: [picks up a paperclip] I will kill you 18 different ways with THIS paperclip!

Frankly, I can think of only two ways. Ziva is impossibly badass - that's why we love her.

Wow, it has been a long time since I updated this series. Ever since the new _Star Trek _film, all my muse wants to work on is Trek - and she is a very stubborn muse indeed.

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